The cold dust from this windy city leaves heads heavy with coarse beards, faces red breathing whiskey frost, icy fingers, watering eyes from wind tears. Its bathtubs fill with sand.

My hair grows more quickly here, it wraps around my neck. I let it fall around my shoulders, old friends. The blueberry

stains under my fingernails came from picking them last night before bed. I wondered how many bites until I find the perfect one? What will blueberry dreams look like? This morning, I awoke giggling.